


Blanket

by orsaverba



Series: It's Not Redemption [2]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Roadtrip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:01:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25057372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orsaverba/pseuds/orsaverba
Summary: The bus is sub-Arctic and Peter's in shorts.( Set sometime duringIt's Not Redemption if You're Dead)[ Now translated intoRussian]
Relationships: Quentin Beck/Peter Parker
Series: It's Not Redemption [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1814803
Comments: 6
Kudos: 49





	Blanket

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Одеяло](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25202848) by [Taracsacum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taracsacum/pseuds/Taracsacum)



> A prompt I wrote some time ago, but only just got around to typing up.

At the height of summer, shivering is the last thing one should be doing. But, if Greyhound Buses ever managed to not make a ride miserable, it would've been front page news. Even when they  _ were _ trying to consider customer comfort, they managed to fuck it up and set the air conditioning to sub-Arctic.

Had they not been in backwater Florida, Beck might've insisted they pick up jackets at their last clothing swap. Instead, they'd chosen nondescript T-shirts and jeans; or in Peter's case,  _ shorts _ . 

Scowling, he finally gave in and pulled his legs up to his chest. The seat was cramped as it was and trying to squash his whole body into it was nigh impossible. He made a valiant effort though, twisting his arms around his bare knees in an attempt to keep them tight to his front.

At least when Beck had been in the seat beside him there had been body heat to rely on. However, he'd gotten up some fifteen minutes ago and had yet to return.

"Jerk."

Peter had half a mind to get up and find him. It's not like there were many places to  _ go _ on a bus, he wouldn't be that hard to track down. On the other hand, getting up meant exposing more of his body to the relentlessly cold air conditioning. 

Resigning himself to hypothermia, Peter stared moodily out the window at the dark, shapeless landscape. He was allowed perhaps three minutes of melodramatic sulking before a shadow appeared in the corner of his vision.

Beck dropped into his seat and held up a lumpy, folded square.

"Got us a blanket," he said gruffly.

Peter's brows arched.

"Where'd you get...?"

"Don't worry about it."

As a general practice, Peter had learned it was best not to question Beck's methods and simply reap the benefits of their results. 

The center armrest wouldn't budge, so they had to huddle against it uncomfortably to both fit under the cozy fleece. Beck's cheek dropped instantly onto the crown of Peter's head, forcing him down against his shoulder. With some adjustment, Peter squirmed himself as close to his side as he could, tucking his face into the warm crook of his neck. 

"Thanks, Quentin."

  
  
"Sure thing, kid."


End file.
